


In The Wrong Place, Trying To Make It Right

by piginawig



Series: That's where you'll find me [1]
Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: 27 years later, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Eddie survives, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Minor Ben Hanscom/Beverly Marsh, Minor pining, Part 1 of a new series, Stan is still dead I'm very sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-18
Updated: 2017-12-18
Packaged: 2019-02-16 09:35:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13051332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/piginawig/pseuds/piginawig
Summary: "Richie wasn’t sure how the fuck he’d managed to forget Eddie Kaspbrak. Like, now that he’s got Eddie’s hand in his (his remaining hand, Richie’s traitorous mind reminds him cruelly, and he avoids looking at the hospital gown lying flat against the bed where an arm should be) he remembers everything. "Or, 27 years later, Eddie makes it out of the sewers alive.





	In The Wrong Place, Trying To Make It Right

**Author's Note:**

> My medical knowledge comes from light Googling and Grey's Anatomy, so please don't attack if something's minorly wrong. If there are any major mistakes, let me know. I don't have an update schedule planned for this series, so I'm not sure when the next installment will be.
> 
> Title from "Come Home" by onerepublic
> 
> Hit me up on [tumblr](http://demisexualeds.tumblr.com)
> 
> This series will be a mix of book/movie canon. Essentially, the timeline will follow movie canon (so they were kids in the 80s, and this is set roughly in the 2010s). If you don't know what happens at the end of the book, you probably shouldn't read this (although if you've gotten this far you already know Eddie dies so... yikes). However, if you aren't concerned about spoilers, here are the major plot points you need to know about the ending: Richie and Bill are busy doing weird Ritual of Chud stuff and essentially Eddie has to save them, and he does it by spraying his aspirator and calling it battery acid. However, spider!IT chomps his arm off. But he still saves Richie and Bill, so.. mission accomplished? Anyway, Derry also like, literally implodes when IT dies. Like, the town caves in on itself and basically is entirely destroyed. Henry stabbed Mike but he lived. Henry broke Eddie's arm but Eddie killed him before he could do more damage. Oh, and IT is a female. Only important because Richie refers to IT as 'she'. I can't think of any other major plot points that tie into this story, but if you catch something let me know! Hope you enjoy!

Richie wasn’t sure how the fuck he’d managed to forget Eddie Kaspbrak. Like, now that he’s got Eddie’s hand in his ( _his remaining hand_ , Richie’s traitorous mind reminds him cruelly, and he avoids looking at the hospital gown lying flat against the bed where an arm should be) he remembers everything. He remembers his best fucking friend in the entire world, remembers the mixed emotions he felt toward him as a teenager, remembered that he was the first boy he’d ever been attracted to. He remembered almost nightly sleepovers in Eddie’s room, sneaking in so his crazy mother wouldn’t hear them, lying next to him and just watching him sleep, refraining from reaching out and brushing soft hair from his forehead or tracing the light dusting of freckles that crossed his nose. But he’d moved as a teenager, and they’d forgotten about each other. It made Richie feel sick to know he spent over half his life without a single thought about Eddie Kaspbrak.

“Mr. Tozier?” Richie jumped, eyes darting to the door of the hospital room to the nurse who had spoken. “Sorry to interrupt, I’m just here to check Mr. Kaspbrak’s vitals.”

“Right,” Richie nodded, but didn’t move. He held even tighter to Eddie’s hand, careful not to jostle his broken arm. He watched as the nurse waved a thermometer over Eddie’s forehead and then pressed some buttons on the machine he was hooked up to. She began writing things down, and Richie cleared his throat. “Um, is it normal that he hasn’t woken up?”

The nurse looked surprised, eyebrows raising and eyes wide. Richie stared blankly at her. “Sorry,” she said finally, shaking her head. “I just didn’t expect you to be so.. normal. Not doing voices or anything. I listen to your radio show every morning. You’re so funny.”

Richie opened his mouth to say something scathing, but could almost hear Eddie scolding him with a _beep, beep, Richie_ , so he bit his tongue, and instead said, “Well, it’s hard to be funny when your best friend’s had his arm ripped off by a –“ he paused, remembering the cover story for Eddie’s injuries, “falling building.” He grimaced, an odd wave of thankfulness that Derry had literally collapsed in on itself upon the death of It, if only because it gave Eddie’s severe injuries a believable origin.

“Right,” the nurse looked properly scolded, then answered his question. “It’s pretty normal. I honestly don’t know how he survived this injury, especially without immediate medical attention. You said it was almost twenty minutes before you even found an ambulance?” She shook her head in awe. “But his body is recovering from the trauma, and, I’m sorry to say it, but I’d be happy he’s asleep if I were you. He’d be in a lot of pain if he were awake right now.”

Richie frowned, thumb rubbing circles on the back of Eddie’s hand. His best friend’s face was pale and he looked almost translucent under the fluorescent lights of the hospital room. But, at the very least, he looked peaceful. The skin between his eyes was smooth, not wrinkled in agony, and his lips were relaxed, not pinched in pain. Richie knew the paleness was because of the loss of blood, and that even with the blood transfusions it had been a close call, so he shouldn’t expect rosy color in Eddie’s cheeks any time soon, no matter how much he wished for it.

“Would you like to speak to his doctor, Mr. Tozier?” The nurse asked, and Richie felt a pang of guilt at snapping at her. She was a fan, clearly, and she seemed to genuinely care about her patient.

“Um,” Richie paused, then sighed and shook his head. “No, that’s alright. Only when there’s something new to report.”

The nurse nodded and left the room. As soon as she was out the door, Richie felt his phone begin vibrating in his pocket and he pulled it out, a smile forming on his lips when he saw the name. He answered the call.

“So, you haven’t forgotten me yet, Miss Marsh?”

Beverly let out a small laugh on the other side of the phone. “I set up reminders on my phone before Ben and I left Derry, but I actually haven’t forgotten the way Mike said we would.”

“Me neither,” Richie hummed. “I’m only as far as Bangor so I figured I was still in memory-range or something, but maybe it’ll be different now that It’s actually dead.”

“Maybe,” Beverly agreed. Richie was comforted by the sound of her breathing for a moment before she spoke again. “How is he?”

“He’s-“ Richie immediately felt his breath hitch, tears springing to his eyes. He hastily wiped them away, sick of crying. “He hasn’t woken up, Bev.”

“Oh, Richie,” Beverly’s voice was sad, and Richie thought he could hear her tears, too. “He’s going to pull through, he’s the strongest person I’ve ever met.”

“He doesn’t have his arm, Bev –“ Richie cut himself off again, squeezing Eddie’s hand and watching the rise and fall of his chest to remind himself that his best friend was in fact still breathing. “He flatlined twice in the last two days and he’s so pale and he hasn’t woken up-“

“Rich,” Beverly interrupted him, her voice loving but stern. “You need to be positive right now, okay? Eddie’s going to need you to have your shit together when he wakes up. Imagine waking up with one arm broken and the other not even fucking there; he’ll be inconsolable. You’ve got to be there for him.”

“I know,” Richie choked out. “I know I do. I will. I just… I’m all by myself. How am I supposed to do this all by myself?”

“Have you asked Bill to come stay with you?”

Richie sighed heavily. “He’s at Mike’s with Audra. She’s still not responsive. Mike’s still in the hospital in Derry, and I assume you’re calling because you and Ben have finally made it to Nebraska?”

Beverly confirmed. Richie bit his lip. “I want to take him to California. Better doctors than here in Maine, and we can be comfortable in my house and I’ve got friends there, people that can help us out –“

“Are you planning on him living with you?” Beverly asked suddenly.

Richie frowned, opened his mouth to say _of course, where else would he live_ , before he was hit with the memory of Eddie telling them all about his wife.

“Holy fuck,” Richie muttered, eyes widening. “We never told his fucking wife.”

Beverly barked a laugh on the other end of the phone line. “I called her, actually. She’s kind of a nightmare, to be honest. She shrieked at me and I swear to god I was talking to his mom for a minute.”

“Is she not coming?” Richie asked, almost hopefully.

“She was too embarrassed to fly because she’d have to buy two tickets to fit her fat ass, and she was too scared to drive that far. She asked for daily updates but honestly, tough shit. If you love your husband you get over your bullshit excuses and go see him when he’s had his damn arm eaten. I told her Eddie’d call her when he woke up. That’s up to him, I guess.”

Richie wanted to laugh. “Is she really fat enough to need two plane tickets? Eds didn’t mention that bit, was too busy saying she was driving George Clooney around.”

Bev giggled. “Yeah well, I’m sure he was embarrassed by it. After a ten-minute phone conversation, I can easily say I’d be embarrassed to be married to her, too.”

“She sounds like a real winner,” Richie mused quietly, looking at Eddie again. Eddie had told him he hadn’t dated apart from Myra, and Richie wondered how the hell Eddie wasn’t beating girls away with a stick, because even at forty Eddie Kaspbrak was a fucking sight.

“No worse than my husband,” Beverly reminded him, and Richie grimaced. 

“I'm proud of you for leaving him, Bev," Richie said seriously. "You're so much better off with Handsome Hanscom."

“Absolutely,” Bev agreed, and Richie could hear the smile in her voice. “Anyway, Rich, I gotta go. I’ll call again soon. Let me know if there’s any updates, okay?”

“Okay,” he answered. “Love you, Bev.”

“Love you, too,” she said, and hung up the phone. Richie dropped his own phone into his lap.

It wasn’t five minutes of silence before his phone rang again. This time it was Mike.

“Hey, Mikey,” Richie greeted, feeling a little lighter since his talk with Beverly.

“Hiya, Rich,” Mike said easily. “Got released from the hospital today.”

Richie brightened. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, I actually had a question for you,” Mike said.

“Shoot.”

“What room’s Eddie in?”

Richie’s breath hitched. “Are you here?”

“I’m in the lobby downstairs. Reception told me Eddie was a VIP and wasn’t taking visitors.”

“Oh yeah, I did that in case any media got whiff of where I’m at,” Richie explained. “It’s 304, buddy, I can’t wait to see you.”

He hung up the phone, wiping tears of relief from his eyes.

“Hear that, Eds?” He said. “Mike’s coming to visit you, you’ll get to hear a voice other than mine today!”

“That’ll be a –“ Eddie’s first words were scratchy, and Richie’s eyes widened as Eddie began wiggling in his bed, trying to get comfortable. Richie groped blindly at the bedside table before his hands closed around the water pitcher, quickly filling a cup and holding it to Eddie’s lips.

“There you go, Eds,” Richie murmured, hands shaking as Eddie gulped the water. “Stay still, okay? You’re okay.”

Richie put the cup back on the table when Eddie was finished and sat and watched as Eddie’s eyes became clearer, taking in his surroundings.

“Wha’ happened?”

“Eddie!”

Richie jumped at Mike’s voice behind him.

“You didn’t tell me he’d woken up!”

Richie looked at him in the doorway, leaning on a cane but alive and well.

And then he heard Eddie wheezing behind him, soft cries of “ _oh my god, oh my god_ ” escaping his lips. When Richie turned back to him, Eddie’s face was even paler than it had been in his sleep, and his eyes were leaking tears. He was looking at the place his arm should be.

Richie jumped into action, one knee next to Eddie on the bed and his other foot planted firmly on the ground, leaning over his best friend. He reached out and, in a move reminiscent of their childhood, he grabbed Eddie’s cheeks and held them, forcing his friend to look in his eyes.

“Look at me, Eds, okay?” He said, barely noticing Mike picking up the small button on Eddie’s bed and pressing to call for a nurse. “Look at me. It’s okay. It – she got you, man. You fuckin' – you saved me and Bill’s lives, but – you got hurt. I’m so sorry, babe, I’m so sorry, but you’re okay, you’re –“

“Is It dead?” Eddie whispered.

“Yeah, baby, It’s dead. We got her for good this time, and we’re all alive. You’re alive.”

Eddie was still panting but the tears were slowing down. A handful of nurses barged into the room, pulling Richie off the bed and using a syringe to insert medication into Eddie’s IV.

“What are you giving him?” Richie asked loudly, terrified as Eddie’s eyes drooped.

“A sedative,” one of the nurses explained. “It’s very common for an amputee to get upset when they first wake up.”

“Well won’t he just have to wake up and get upset all over again?” Richie demanded, not calming when Mike placed a hand on his arm.

“Can you please remove your friend?” One of the nurses asked Mike. Mike nodded, and Richie yelled at her as Mike dragged him from the room.

“C’mon, Rich, you’re not doing Eddie any favors right now,” Mike said, once they were down the hall. Richie suddenly realized he was crying. “This is protocol, okay? They know what they’re doing.”

“He just woke up,” Richie cried, leaning his head on Mike’s shoulder. “He just woke up and now he’s gone again-“

“He’ll be awake again soon, Richie,” Mike reassured him. “He’s not gone, okay, he’s still here.”

Richie opened his mouth to talk, to say the words that had been sitting at the back of his throat for two days, but he couldn’t get them out. He knew they’d bring more tears, and he didn’t want to cry anymore. He could already feel the eyes of the hospital staff on him, ready to call up fuckin' TMZ or something to report Richie Tozier crying in a hospital over another man.

A throat clearing behind the two startled Richie, and he wiped his face before turning to face Eddie’s doctor.

“Mr. Tozier, nice to see you again,” he greeted, and Richie nodded at him. The doctor then turned to Mike. “I’m Dr. Rheese, Mr. Kaspbrak’s surgeon. You are?”

“Mike Hanlon,” Mike introduced, holding out a hand to shake. “Childhood friend of Eddie’s.”

“You look pretty beat up yourself, Mr. Hanlon, were you involved in the same accident?”

Mike bit his lip, unsure of what the exact cover story for Eddie’s injuries was. Richie spoke up. “We were all together when the building collapsed.”

The doctor nodded. “Well, in that case you’re welcome to join Mr. Tozier and I in my office. Is Mrs. Kaspbrak going to be joining us?”

Richie hardened. “Mrs. Kaspbrak isn’t in the picture.”

The doctor nodded again, leading them to a small room at the end of the hallway. He shut the door behind them.

“We’ve sedated Mr. Kaspbrak-“

“Can you call him Eddie?” Richie interrupted, then felt stupid.

Dr. Rheese smiled. “Of course. Eddie has been sedated for the time being, but it shouldn’t last long. An hour or two at most. When he wakes up he shouldn’t be too disoriented but it may take him a few moments to remember his loss of limb. We’re going to give him some anxiety medication now in order to stave off a potential panic attack upon waking. Eddie is very lucky in that his wound did not become infected before he was brought in, but as you know we’ve had him on antibiotics the two days he’s been here just to be safe. We’re going to be taking him off of them in a day or two so long as we don’t see any sign of infection. Eddie’s vitals are all looking good and the broken bone in his arm has been set. Now – may I ask who applied the tourniquet?”

Richie cleared his throat, his mind flashing back to the sewers. He could see the blood, the way Eddie had just fallen, legs buckling under him. He hadn’t been able to do anything, hadn’t been able to react enough to save him.

“Our other friend,” Richie answered finally. “Beverly. There were a bunch of us together. She got her boyfriend Ben’s belt and-“ Richie couldn’t finish. He remembered the moment Bev had tightened the belt around what was left of Eddie’s arm, the way Eddie’s mouth had stopped moving and his eyes were closed. Richie had thought he was dead before Bev screamed that he was still breathing.

“Well, it sounds like your friend Beverly is responsible for saving Eddie’s life,” Dr. Rheese said with a small smile.

“When can Eddie leave the hospital?” Mike asked.

“That’s a difficult question to answer. He needs to recuperate and he needs to be under the care of a medical professional for at least two weeks to keep an eye on his wound. After that, he should be okay to be at home so long as he is under the care of a capable adult who is comfortable helping to take care of him.”

“He’ll be living with me,” Richie said without thinking, ignoring the way Mike’s eyebrows raised. “In California, actually. How soon can he travel?”

“Well, you’ll have noticed he’s currently wearing a shrinker on the limb. That’s to help shape what’s left of his upper arm to fit a prosthetic. At the two week mark, he can begin physical therapy to prepare him for his first prosthetic. It’s probably for the best that you find him a doctor in California and have an appointment prepared as soon as possible once he’s released from the hospital. At that point, his recovery will be much more based in his physical and emotional therapy than with worry over dressing the wound. The wound should be entirely healed in four to eight weeks. Keep in mind his healing process is going to be even more difficult because his remaining arm is broken. He’ll be in a cast for around 4 weeks, then he’ll need to rehab the arm.”

Richie nodded, mind going a thousand miles a minute. “How do I know what kind of doctor he needs to see?”

Dr. Rheese paused, biting his lip. He watched Richie for a moment before speaking. “Where in California are you going to be living?”

“LA,” Richie answered. “I’m a radio DJ. I know it’s not – it’s not where Eddie lives, he lives in New York but his wife is... his wife’s awful... I mean, I haven’t talked to him about it, I just, _fuck_ – he’s gonna want to go to New York, isn’t he, Mike?”

Richie had tears in his eyes, and Mike put a hand on his shoulder.

“Listen,” Dr. Rheese said, smiling softly at the two men. “I’ll give you my cell number. Send me a text when Eddie’s living situation is figured out, and I will find a qualified group to take care of him. That should be a physical therapist, a prosthetist, an occupational therapist, and a mental health counselor. You can usually find a group that houses all of them, so he can simply visit them all in the same building. You’ve still got twelve days before his discharge from the hospital, so you have time.”

“Thank you,” Mike said, leading Richie out of the office and back to Eddie’s room. Richie let himself be led, mindlessly watching his feet as they trudged forward along the linoleum floors. It was the first time he’d noticed his sneakers had Eddie’s blood on them, mixed with the grey water that had seeped into his socks and long since dried.

“Mike?”

“Yeah, buddy?” Mike said, dropping onto the padded bench that sat beneath the window of Eddie’s room. He looked exhausted and Richie felt guilty for asking but he couldn’t help but think about the dried grey water and possible blood that was still coating his body.

“I – I didn’t want to leave Eddie’s side, I didn’t want him to be alone in case he woke up but…”

“Have you slept?” Mike cut in, looking concerned.

“A little,” Richie said truthfully. He failed to mention that the sleep he got, his head pillowed on Eddie’s mattress, bent at the waist in the uncomfortable chair, was fitful. “But I’m more concerned about the fact that I haven’t showered.”

Mike grimaced. “Yeah, you should probably go do that. Do you have a hotel room here?”

Richie sighed in frustration. He could feel more tears building behind his eyes. “Jesus Christ, why is this fucking happening?”

“Hey, it’s okay, I can call and make you a reservation-“

“Thanks, but I’ll take care of it. I’m just stressed, is all. I still need to call work and get everything sorted out before that damn guest DJ takes over my spot for good.”

“Nobody’s gonna take your spot, Rich,” Mike told him, smiling softly. “No one else could ever do a Voice like you can.”

“I’ll be a couple hours, then,” Richie said, headed toward the door. He began making a mental list of all the things he needed to get done and tried to keep himself from stressing about each thing too much.

“Oh! Wait,” Mike said, standing up and pulling his keys from his pocket. He pulled one off and handed it to Richie. “This is my spare car key. Yours and Eddie’s bags from the Derry Town House are in my trunk.”

Richie released a sigh of relief, and instead of taking the key leaned in and wrapped his arms around his friend. Mike’s hug was warm and made Richie feel safe for the first time in days.

“Thank you,” Richie whispered when he let go. “It doesn’t seem like much but you just saved me two hours.”

He took the key from Mike and left.

*

Richie glanced around the hotel room as he dropped the two suitcases to the floor. It was moderately sized with a queen-sized bed and a kitchenette. The shower was nice and the bathroom was clean, and that was enough for him. He didn’t plan on spending much time here, anyway, but he needed a home base to shower and change and maybe sleep sometimes over the next twelve days. Richie quickly dug through his suitcase to find some clothes to wear, and rolled his eyes at past-Richie, who had clearly thought three outfits would suffice for this trip. He was wearing one of them. He’d need to find a Wal-Mart or something to pick up some cheap clothes so he wasn’t spending every day in the laundry room.

He made his way to the bathroom, stripping himself of his clothes and taking his glasses off once he was inside. He looked at his own body and cringed. He looked _dirty_. He wasn’t sure how the nurses and doctors at the hospital had managed to come within two feet of him, considering how badly he probably smelled. He suddenly felt guilty for hugging Mike.

In the shower, he ignored the water swirling down the drain until it wasn’t tinged pink and brown, and he washed his hair twice. He scrubbed every inch of skin with a washcloth lathered in soap until he was pink, and even then he didn’t feel clean enough.

Richie spent over thirty minutes in the shower, and he took his time drying and getting dressed. He put his glasses on last, unused to the weight of them on his face. He hadn’t worn them in years, and then he’d had to take his contacts out at the hospital and had nowhere to put them, so Beverly had brought him his spare pair of glasses from his suitcase on her way out of town with Ben.

Richie stepped out of the bathroom and flopped onto the bed, and he became aware of how tense his muscles were. He groaned, knowing what he had to do next, and that it would only make him even more tense. After a moment of hesitation he picked up his phone, and, ignoring the hundreds of missed notifications from the last three days, found his program director’s contact info.

“What the fuck, Richard Tozier,” Steve said into the phone, and Richie winced. “It’s been five days since you crapped out on me, and since then you’ve ignored every fucking call and text I’ve sent. I don’t want any more bullshit about promises you made when you were 14 – just tell me you’re on your way back.”

“I need twelve more days,” Richie said.

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

“I’m not.”

“What the fuck is going on, Rich? Do I need to find a fucking permanent replacement for you, because I’ve got thousands of demo tapes of dumbass kids pulling off your damn voices and any one of them would happily take your spot for half the pay-“

“Get off it, Steve,” Richie groaned, rubbing his temples with his forefingers. “Two fucking weeks is not the end of the world. It’s a fucking emergency.”

“What kind of goddamn emergency-“

“My best friend just had his arm ripped off and I’m staying here while he’s in the hospital,” Richie interrupted, closing his eyes. “And he’s coming back to California with me, so I might have to take time off intermittently to take care of him once I’m back.”

Steve was quiet for a minute, until, “your _best friend_? Sounds like more than a best friend to me, Rich. Sounds like that assistant of yours ten years ago, short guy that you liked to fuck on the side-“

“Shut the fuck up,” Richie said, his heart racing. It hadn’t occurred to him until Steve brought him up, but suddenly his assistant, Roger, was in his mind and he couldn’t get past how much he looked like Eddie. “My childhood best friend was almost killed, and I’m taking care of him. Dock my pay, fire me. I don’t fucking care anymore-“

“I’m not gonna fuckin' fire you, Rich,” Steve said with a sigh. “The people haven’t actually hated Mike in your time slot, so we’ll just rework your schedules. This blows man, but do what you have to do.”

“Thanks, Steve,” Richie said. “I’ll see you in two weeks.”

Richie hung up the phone and started to go through his notifications. Most of them were from Steve, a few from his other co-workers. He’d missed texts from Ben and Bill, just checking in on Eddie. He decided to call Bill.

“Hello?”

“Heya, Big Bill,” Richie said tiredly.

“Rich. How’s Eddie?”

“He woke up for a minute. He freaked out over his arm so they sedated him. He should be awake again by now. No signs of infection, and the doctor says he can be released in twelve days. I’m at a hotel right now. Just took my first shower since the whole thing.”

“That’s disgusting,” Bill said with a snort. Richie rolled his eyes. “But I’m glad Eddie’s doing okay. I hope I can come visit him before he leaves. Is he going back to New York?”

Richie sighed. “That’s a good question, Billy.”

*

“He’s alive!”

Eddie rolled his eyes. He was sat up in his hospital bed, Mike in the chair next to him.

“Hey, Rich,” he said. Richie walked over to him and sat on the edge of the bed. He grabbed Eddie’s hand again, careful not to jostle it in its cast. “Mike says you were here the first time I woke up but I don’t remember it.”

“That’s okay, you were pretty out of it anyway,” Richie said, shrugging. It hurt a little that his face wasn’t the first one that Eddie remembered seeing, but at least he wasn’t alone when it happened. “I’m just happy you’re awake now.”

“Someone’s sappy,” Eddie said with a small grin.

“What the fuck,” Richie gaped, hand held up to his heart. “Ah say, ah say ah can’t believe the sass on this here boy!”

“Wow, I didn’t miss that at all,” Eddie said, but Richie could tell he was lying by the smile on his face.

“You love my Voices, Eds,” Richie said happily, then cooed as Eddie’s cheeks flushed a bit. His face was still pale, but it was good to see a little color on him.

“So we were just talking about what Eddie’s plans are for when he gets out of the hospital,” Mike said, interrupting them. Richie felt his heart rise into his throat.

“Oh?”

“Yeah,” Mike said. “I had just asked if Eddie was going back to New York when you walked in.”

“Wait, before you answer,” Richie said, looking at Eddie. “I just want to put an offer on the table. It won’t hurt my feelings if you say no, okay? But just know... I’m one hundred percent serious about it. I want you to come to California with me. You need someone that can take care of you, and I have extra room in my house and my job is willing to give me flexible hours and your doctor said he’d find a facility close to my house and – Listen, Eds. I want you there. With me.”

Eddie’s mouth was open and his eyes were filled with tears. Richie could hear his heart racing in his ears as he waited for a response.

“I want to leave Myra,” he whispered. Richie breathed out a sigh of relief. “Are you sure you want me to come with you, Rich? I’m helpless, you’d have to do everything for me.”

“Yes,” Richie answered, without hesitation. “Absolutely.”

“Okay,” Eddie agreed quietly. Richie smiled. “You know that means you’ll have to change my dressing for me and probably like – give me fuckin’ sponge baths and shit, right?”

Richie laughed. “I’m down for whatever. I’ll give the best sponge bath you’ve ever fuckin had, Eds.”

“I take it back,” Eddie grinned. “If you’re gonna call me Eds, I’m going back to my wife.”

“That’s a damn lie,” Richie said. Eddie smiled. “I know it’s going to be really hard, but I want to be there for you, okay?”

Eddie nodded, looking down at his lap.

“Every step of the way, I want to be there. With you.”

“Me too,” Eddie whispered. Richie leaned forward, letting go of Eddie’s hand and cupping his cheek instead. Eddie’s brown eyes shot up to meet his. He looked at the dusting of freckles crossing his nose and smiled, remembering the way he used to look at those same freckles as a teenager.

“You and me together,” Richie mumbled, pressing their foreheads together. Eddie sniffled. “You okay?”

Eddie shook his head, his forehead and nose brushing Richie’s. “I just want to hug you.”

Richie felt his heart break a little. “ _Baby_ ,” he whispered. “Just a couple more weeks til the cast comes off and you can hug me, okay?”

Eddie sniffed again. “Can you hug me?”

Richie carefully wrapped his arms around Eddie’s neck, making sure not to jostle his broken arm or mess up his bandages. Eddie sighed into the hug, and Richie found himself desperately wishing for the feeling of arms wrapping around his own back.

“Well damn, now I want a hug, too,” Richie jolted, pulling back from Eddie who laughed.

“Holy fuck, I forgot you were here,” Richie said, eyes wide and hand on his chest. Mike and Eddie laughed.

“That’s what happens when you get fucking sappy,” Eddie said with a smirk.

“You both love my sappiness,” Richie said, playfully rolling his eyes.

“Yeah, yeah,” Mike said. “Anyway, it’s getting late and I’ve got to make the drive back to Derry, so I’m gonna head out.”

“You’re welcome to stay in my hotel room,” Richie offered. “I probably won’t be there much.”

“No, that’s okay,” Mike said, waving him off. “I’ve got to get to the library and clean up.”

“Dude, you were literally stabbed like, three days ago.”

Mike shrugged. “Work stops for no one.”

Richie felt a wave of guilt, thinking of his phone call with Steve, who was willing to work around Richie’s emergency so that he could keep his job. He realized Mike didn’t have that luxury.

“I’ll help you,” he offered, as Mike was walking out the door. “Just call me when you’re going in, and I’ll be there. I’m not hurt, I can get a lot more done than you can.”

Mike nodded, smiling. “Sure thing, Rich. I’ll call.”

Mike walked out the door, and then Eddie said, “He’s not going to call.”

Richie sighed sadly. “I know.”

The two were quiet for a while, and Richie eventually moved to settle into the chair Mike had vacated. “So I know it’s probably not something you want to talk about, but… your wife? What are you going to do?”

Eddie sighed, closing his eyes. “I have no fucking idea, Rich.”

Richie bit his lip. “Well, I’ve just been thinking. All your stuff is in New York. Your business is in New York. Eventually you’ll have to go back, even just to set things straight-“

Suddenly Eddie laughed.

“Ummm..?” Richie trailed off, watching as Eddie snorted with laughter.

“I’m sorry, you said straight and I was thinking about Myra and I just –“ Eddie took a deep breath and seemed to calm down. “I’m not fucking straight. I don’t love Myra at all, and I’m – I’m gay, _fuck_. I’m fucking gay.”

Richie’s eyes were wide.

“I’m sorry if that changes things,” Eddie started, but Richie cut him off.

“No, of course not!” He exclaimed. “It would be mighty hypocritical of me…”

“Really?” Eddie looked shocked.

Richie nodded. “Bisexual, myself.”

“Well, shit,” Eddie said. “Think my wife will have the same reaction?”

Richie cackled.

Eddie snorted. “Yeah, I didn’t think so. But you are right, I’ll eventually need to go to the city and get my stuff. I guess I’ll tell Myra over the phone beforehand and I can get my lawyer to have the papers ready so we can sign while I’m there…”

“Well, we’ve got two more weeks here in Maine, then we’ll fly out to LA. Once you’re healed up enough that you feel well enough to travel then we can go and figure all that out. Give yourself some time, Eds. You don’t have to figure everything out today.”

Eddie nodded. “Thanks, Richie.” He yawned, and Richie’s heart raced at the sight. Eddie was fucking adorable, even in his hospital gown. “I think the medicine they have me on is making me sleepy.”

“Understandable,” Richie said. “Go to sleep, I’ll be here when you wake up.”

Richie found the remote attached to the bed and lowered it until Eddie was lying down again, and then he got up and turned the overhead lights off.

“Goodnight, Eddie Spaghetti.”

Eddie grinned, and closed his eyes. “Don’t call me that.”

 


End file.
